The Right Thing
by halfbloodcountess
Summary: This is a sequel to "The Thought that Counts." In this fanfic, Norman Osborn has the chance to do the right thing. Will he succeed? Please read and review! This is not a slash!


A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! This is a sequel to "The Thought that Counts." Please read and review and no flames!

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing…

It has been a month since Harry's operation and despite the fact that my son is doing fine, I feel uneasy. Though I did the right thing by staying at the hospital with him, I feel like I didn't do enough. I was at his side when he woke up and I got some gifts and that was it. But I couldn't help but wonder if I had missed something. I did all that a father in that situation was suppose to do like asking questions, waiting for the operation to be over, all that stuff. What had I missed?

Shaking my head, I got up and decided to go to bed. It was 11 o'clock and I had to get up early tomorrow and I had to get Harry to school. I walked up the stairs to my room and starting walking down a long dark corridor. I will admit, my house can be a little scary at night, but I didn't let that bother me. As I walked across the hall, I passed an old room that I hadn't been in since Harry was little. It was the place were Emily and I use to sleep. After she died, I never wanted to be in there again and I stayed true to my vow.

Brushing that aside, I made it across the hall, took a left, passed an old painting, and found myself in front of Harry's room. I was tempted to turn and walk away, but against my better judgment, I went ahead and opened the door. Harry's room was huge with a large king size bed complete with a fireplace. It felt strange standing there, for I hadn't watched my son sleep in a long time. I walked closer, thankful that the moonlight provided some light. He slept in the center of the bed, his arms lying on his side. I carefully sat down on the bed, hoping not to awake him.

I looked at my son, and realized how much he had grown. There no traces of baby fat in his cheeks anymore and his features were more profound. His arms and legs were not stubby anymore and he had grown taller through the years. He was too big for me to carry and he no longer needed round the clock care.

I ran my fingers through his auburn hair and in his sleep, he turned on his side That hit a nerve. Even when he slept, my attempt at being affectionate didn't work. They say that the son carries the sins of the father, and due to my own father's lack of affection towards me, my own son was paying for it. I didn't know how to tell my son "I love you" or anything like that. When he was a baby, I left him in the care of a nanny and whenever I tried to hold Harry, he would cry. I won't deny that it bothered me, but I couldn't just stop working. I had to be at Oscorp all day and all night if I had to. Because of this, I missed out on the little things like his first laugh, his first steps, his first crawl, everything! I figured, that somehow someway, I would find a way to make it up, but I never did.

Did I really love my job too much? Should I had stayed at home more?

I honestly didn't have all the answers. If only Emily had stayed alive. Would she be happy? Would she find a way for me to spend more time with my son?

Once again, the questions remained unanswered. Suddenly the air conditioner kicked in, and Harry shivered. I wrapped another blanket around him, and tucked him in as best as I could. He tossed and turned in his sleep, and for a second I though he was having a nightmare. I put my hand on his shoulder and waited to see what was going to happen and then he relaxed.

I couldn't believe how much he looked like me. The same hair, nose, lips, everything! The only thing that he inherited from Emily were her eyes. When the nurse put Harry in my arms, I noticed that his eyes were not blue. Instead they were the color of the same eyes that captured my heart. At that moment, I didn't what to say to the little baby that wasn't even 30 minutes old. All I could think about was how this little bundle had caused my wife to almost die on the operating table. Harry's eyes didn't sent my heart fluttering or anything of that sort. Instead, they made me think of what would've happened if Emily's eyes had closed forever when Harry was born.

All I could do was stare back at my baby and I didn't even utter words like "I'm your father" or "I love you." Was I being selfish? Should I had said something? Was my stoic stare at my newborn son a sign of what was to come?

I know that I don't deserve to be Father of the Year, but I _do_ love my son. I just wish that he had more ambition. I wish that he didn't flunk out at the private schools that I sent him to, and I wish that he could make grades higher than a C.

But I do love him and how can I not? He is all that is left of Emily.

I may not have carried my son for nine months, and a bond never really formed between us, but I do care for him.

All I want is the best for him. Is that too much to ask?

As I looked back at Harry a part of me wanted to gather him in my arms and tell him how I really felt. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and that I was so grateful that he had gotten better, but I couldn't. Was it pride? His mother's death? My disappointment in him? Everything in between? I don't know.

Suddenly, Harry began to stir and before I knew it he was awake. I froze. I felt like a kid who was found with his hand in the cookie jar. For some reason, my mind was telling him that this was a blessing in disguise; here was my chance to tell Harry how I felt.

Harry turned and looked at me, his face filled with shock.

"Dad…" he whispered.

_Here's your chance, Norman. _

The words were on the tip of my tongue. Now I could finally do the right thing, and make my son feel wanted. I could do this, I know I could.

_I can do this. I can do this. How hard can it be?_

Harry would want for me to hold in my arms, give him words of comfort, and say all the right words. It is what he needed.

Then all of a sudden, I saw Emily having a seizure in our bedroom, I could hear the sound of her heart monitor flat lining, I saw myself crying as the doctors tried to pull me away from her body, I saw her coffin put in the ground as a priest said some words, and I heard a baby crying…

I could no longer form the words that I had wanted to say anymore; all that was left was a CEO who spent more time at work than at home.

"Dad?" Harry's voice seemed to echo in his bedroom. I could tell that it was probably midnight by now and I had to go to bed now if I wanted to have everything to run smoothly at work. Oscorp couldn't afford a CEO that was half-awake.

I began to get up. "Go back to sleep Harry."

"But, Dad I-"

"I said go back to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."

I thought I saw a tear roll down Harry's cheek. He should know better than to cry in front of me.

"Okay." he whispered. I thought his voice was breaking, but I didn't care. Then, Harry turned on his side, looking away from me.

I got up and walked out of his room. I closed the door behind me and the voice in my head returned.

_Bravo, Norman. Bravo. _

A/N: Please read and review! Thanks!


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